Alone from day to day until a head pops up by her window asking for a copy of some office or house key. What if I can make her smile? Would the sky open up and collapse under the poetry of the moment? I caress the idea like a feline dripping with sleep. How many days has she been stuck behind those keyed walls counting the slow minutes dry up like a raisin baking in the hot San Bernardino sun. I wonder what her answer was when as a little girl she was asked what she wants to be when she grows up. She probably saw visions of dancing with princes with Cinderella slippers turn into grey, grey clouds. She took the key from the machine, split it against the brush apparatus, and rang up my purchase for a buck and some change. I pulled the five from my wallet which I stared at intently like my wallet would open up and tell me my future like a fortune reader. I laughed at the idea that I knew where tomorrow would lead. She locked up the window and shut herself away from the madness calling outside.
“I want to sketch everyone I hear and see with these words crawling through my mind so that I can say we are all beautiful!” I felt like shouting as I drove away. So I drove about five hundred linear feet away to buy household products to make my place clean and to make my life sane. I saved a couple bucks with a Red Card. I went back to work. I made myself some food. I worked for a few more hours only to break because I wanted to tell her story as she spends those minutes locked away, so happily away.